When I Fell For You

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When I Fell For You Page 17

by M. Anne Marks


  “Look, stop saying that, okay? I love you. There is nothing to be sorry about.”

  Seeing those words makes my heart throb. Too bad he doesn’t mean them the way they first appeared in my brain.

  He loves me, yes. Of course. But not the way I want. He loves me as a sister.

  That’s why he’s driving away.

  To be with his girlfriend. Who he can kiss and not feel guilty about. After all, didn’t he just tell all of my friends that he couldn’t kiss me? That I was his sister and that it would be wrong. And that he HAD A GIRLFRIEND??

  He had just said all of that stuff, and then what did I do immediately after?—I kissed him!!

  What is the MATTER with me?

  CHAPTER 27

  I stand staring at Sage’s text wayyy longer than a normal person would. (But hey, I’m so not normal. Obviously.) (I mean, I just kissed my brother.)

  I stare at the message, my heart pounding hard.

  Reading it over and over.

  Okay, got it. Of course. Sage loves me—as a sister.

  Which is all well and good … I guess. Except he loves his girlfriend—as a girlfriend. And now he is filled with guilt because of me. And so he left. Fast as lightning. Had to hurry away to confess his twisted sin to Anya, and explain that it was out of sympathy and a sincere and earnest attempt to twistedly help his twisted sister.

  My cheeks swamp with heat.

  I squeeze my eyes shut. What have I done?

  Anya’s going to hear what he did, and forbid him to see me anymore. Of course. What girlfriend would let her boyfriend kiss another girl? Even if the girl was his sister? Geez, especially if she was his sister?

  Shaking, I collapse into the nearest chair, pretty sure I’ve lost Sage.

  Forever.

  All over a stupid kiss.

  I trace my lips. Geez, even now it seems I can still feel Sage’s hot hungry mouth on mine. I close my eyes.

  The kiss hadn’t been worth losing Sage. Of course.

  But man, it had been a glorious kiss.

  One that will never leave my brain for the rest of my life.

  CHAPTER 28

  Sage didn’t come home all weekend. Finally, Sunday evening I drive over to the ice-rink, knowing he’ll show there for his hockey practice.

  When I hurry across the rink’s parking lot, there he is talking with his friends. He raises his eyebrows when he sees me staring. Without a word, he leaves his friends and trails over to me.

  I wipe at a tear. “I’m sorry, Sage.”

  His jaw muscles tick. “I told you, you don’t need to keep saying that.”

  “But I crossed a line, and you have a girlfriend.”

  “Not anymore.”

  I jerk my gaze up at him. “What?”

  “We broke up.” He glances away from me when he sees my guilt-ridden expression. “Look, I didn’t push you away, Gypsy. That tells you something right there, right?” His eyes flick up at the sky a moment. “Well, it told me something. So, I broke up with her.”

  “But you really liked her.”

  His answer is a slow nod, his eyes staring into mine. Then softly he murmurs, “But I like someone else more.”

  “But—you’re … I mean, I’m your sister.”

  He squeezes his eyes shut. “I’m eighteen now, Gypsy. I’m no longer a ward of the state—or part of the foster care system.”

  “But—but you’re still part of our family. That hasn’t changed.”

  “It sort of did. For me. Gypsy, I didn’t push you away.”

  “Look, I’m late,” he says. “I’ve got to go to hockey practice.”

  For some reason, this moment reminds me of the day he was leaving us. The day his bags were packed and he was waiting at the window for his mom. Out of the blue, I say it again. I have no idea why, but I blurt out, “I bawled that day you left with your Mom.”

  Sage stills. He turns back to me and raises his brow, like go on.

  And also like, what does this have to do with me going to hockey practice?

  I swallow. “I liked you more than you liked me.”

  His eyes glitter, but they’re full of tenderness. “I’m pretty sure the situation has reversed itself.”

  “It hasn’t,” I whisper.

  His eyes close. “It has.”

  He takes one last look at me, then backs away even further. “I have to go, Gypsy.”

  Then he leaves me, disappears through the building’s door, and I get this horrible, uncomfortable feeling that I’m never going to see him again.

  Just like the day he left us.

  Left me.

  The day all the light went away.

  CHAPTER 29

  Sage never came home. Well, not while I was awake. Sometime during that night, he moved all of his stuff out of our house. He must have done it so carefully. So quiet. I’d fallen asleep on the couch waiting for him.

  In the morning, I’d found he’d put a blanket over me. And moved out of the house.

  CHAPTER 30

  Monday morning as soon as I get to school, I search for Sage, terrified that he’s not even going to be here—at school. That it’s going to be exactly like when he left before. That he’s just gone. Completely out of my life.

  So, my heart beats all spastic, yet relieved, when I find Sage at his locker. He’s got his back to me, rummaging through it like he’s looking for something important.

  It takes a long moment before I’m able to speak without bursting into tears. Finally, I manage to choke out, “You moved out of the house?!”

  He stills. Then shuts his locker gently.

  Finally, he slowly turns to face me.

  His eyes staring into mine, he slowly nods. Though I don’t really need that—the nod. Since I already know he moved out. I knew it the moment I saw his room—though he’d left a lot of stuff behind. Almost everything that my parents had furnished for him.

  I wipe away a tear. “Please don’t do this. I know it’s my fault. I blew it so bad, I’m—”

  He gently presses two warm fingers against my lips to stop me from going on. He murmurs softly, “Don’t tell me you’re sorry again, Gypsy.”

  “But I am. I’ve ruined everything.”

  “No you didn’t,” he says gently. “I swear, Gypsy. You didn’t. I get why you did what you did.”

  I grimace. “I made you kiss me.”

  “Yeah, but that was all you wanted me to do. And yet, all I wanted to do was more.” He runs a hand over his face. “Gypsy, I can’t go back to living with you. I can’t be your ‘brother.’ But if you ever want more than that—ever. Then come to me, okay?”

  I swallow, terrified I’m going to cry. “You won’t ever come back?”

  He shakes his head slowly. “I can’t.”

  I wipe away a tear. “Because of me.”

  He gently runs a tender hand through a lock of my hair. “No. Because of the way I feel about you. I can’t be your brother anymore. I’m sorry, Gypsy. I feel like I’m letting you down. And I can’t stand that. Or stand to see you cry—especially when I know I’m the cause of it. But no—I can’t come back.”

  He starts to walk away. Then turns back to me. “Goodbye Gypsy.”

  “Goodbye,” I whisper. But he’s already gone.

  CHAPTER 31

  Over a month has gone by without Sage living in our house. Again, he’s taken all the light in it away with him. I see him in classes, and that’s it. When I catch him staring at me, he gives me a sad, wistful smile, then goes back to talking to whatever girl was trying to get his attention.

  He’s back to having lots of girlfriends.

  I’m back to wanting to put my hair in a braid. But I don’t. Well, I did once, but he texted me in the middle of class. “Take it down now, Gypsy. If you don’t I will.”

  I did take it down. Right in front of him, his eyes heatedly on me from across the classroom, though I knew he was trying to look away.

  He’s not my brother … yet, he’ll always
be my brother.

  CHAPTER 32

  One day as I’m not really listening to my friends in the cafeteria, I glance up at Becca realizing she’s talking about how she wishes there was some hot awesome guy we could hire to get this guy, Jordan, to notice that he actually likes Lydia more than just as a friend.

  She says, “If we can just get the dope to see you with a hot guy, he’ll suddenly get a clue and realize he’s into you. You know, when he gets red hot jealous.”

  She shrugs. “That’s the way it always works. A guy that takes you for granted sees you with another guy—then wham! He realizes what a prize you are.”

  Lydia sighs, “Yeah, but there’s no hot guy for hire—that only happens in books.”

  “Wait!” I exclaim. “I know a guy!”

  CHAPTER 33

  Nervously, I knock on Craig Walker’s door. It’s where Sage is living now—with Craig and two other guys that graduated from our school last year. They were all on the hockey team as well. The hockey guys always help each other out. (And go through girls like Kleenex.) (It’s like a pact with them or something.)

  Sage is the one that answers the door. When he sees me, his eyes light up. He raises his eyebrows. “You’re not here to see your brother, right?”

  My heart speeds up. He looks so hopeful I could cry. “Um,” I stammer out shakily, “I’m here for my friend—Lydia. She needs help.”

  He grins playfully, “Well, you know what I need.”

  Well … I know what he’s implying. Since he told me to come to him if I ever wanted him to be more than a brother … and now here I am, at his door.

  I swallow. “I thought things changed.”

  —Since I see you with tons of girls, constantly. But I don’t tell him that. Instead I say diplomatically—“Since so much time has gone by.”

  “Yeah, it’s been a long time. Like a whole month,” he says teasingly. “Yet my needs appear to be the same.”

  I clutch the railing to steady myself and keep from doing a face-plant. My heart pounding, I glance up at him curiously. “And what are your ‘needs’ exactly?”

  He grins, “For my non-sister to actually come to me—awake—and tell me that she can’t live without me. That she wants me as much as I want her. That she’s willing to overlook that we were once sort of semi-related,” his eyes go all soft and tender, “—that had been awesome, by the way. But now we can be awesome another way.”

  His eyes stare into mine, “That’s what I need.”

  “Well, I’m awake,” I murmur.

  He softly breaths out an amused laugh. “Yeah, that part I was pretty sure about. Since when you’re asleep you don’t knock—and you’re usually wearing a sexy nightgown.”

  I redden, and laugh. “That’s a lie.”

  “Well, okay. In my dreams it’s a sexy nightgown.”

  He grins, “But this is kind of like a dream anyway. You’re at my door. I’ve waited over a month for this—sort of dying, Gypsy. So, please don’t tell me you’re here for your friend.”

  I bite my lip, my heart pounding wild. “Okay,” I whisper. “I’m here because I can’t live without you. I’m willing to overlook that we were once sort of semi-related. Because I know we can be awesome together, and I want that.”

  He grins, huge. He juts chin. “Okay, tell me that you love me.”

  I swallow.

  “Say it, okay? Please?” he says. “I said it to you in a text. I waited all this time, hoping you’d say it back.” He looks into my eyes. “Please say it.”

  “I love you, Sage.”

  His warm hands come on either side of my face, gently making me look up at him. “I love you too, Gypsy. I always did. Even when we were little kids. There is no way you ever liked me more than I liked you. And the fact that you’re here right now is like a dream come true.”

  He grins, “I’m going to kiss you now—and you’re not going to have to sleepwalk, or beg me for more—because I’m never going to stop kissing you, Gypsy. You’re going to have to beg me to stop.”

  “It’s not going to happen,” I whisper earnestly. “I don’t want you to stop. Not ever.”

  “Good,” he murmurs with a smile. “Because I don’t think I can.”

  And then he kissed me.

  For the rest of our lives.

  *********

  We hope you enjoyed the story.

  If you are wondering what to read next, we suggest: The Heartbreaker Next Door. It’s only a dollar right now. (Or you can read it for free if you have Unlimited.)

  If you want to read more about Zoey and Riley, they are in the author’s new novel, The Hockey Player’s Heart; and they are also in her new book: “aka: Sara The Stalker … I Guess.” (That book has Finn’s Fall included in it, which is book three of the Zoey, Riley and Finn series. It’s the final conclusion.) (You can read it for free if you have Unlimited.)

  Below is a short story that the book Aka: Sara The Stalker is (very) loosely based off from. (The names of all the characters have been changed—except Sara’s—to avoid mild spoilers.)

  The short story:

  I love a boy named Sebastian Cole. Well, I guess “love” is a little strong. I like him—a lot. (As in: huge embarrassing crush.) The thing is though, he knows it. See, when I was babysitting at my neighbor’s house one day, I used their phone and called Sebastian … just to hear his voice. It was a lame thing to do. I even knew it at the time. Still, I did it anyway. Sometimes my heart just totally rules over my brain—it’s pathetic.

  Anyway, I called him and he answered, and then I just sat there, like a maniac, listening to his “Hello … hello?”

  (I mentioned my monster crush, right?)

  He cussed—a lot—before he hung up, which made me feel even more loser-like, but hey, I was baby-sitting and had nothing better to do, so I blew it off. It wasn’t like he knew he was cussing me out, so in a way he wasn’t. At least that’s the way I chose to look at it.

  A couple of minutes later though the phone rang. It was Sebastian! You know, ‘cause Caller ID. And of course he recognized my voice when I answered.

  “Squeak? Is that you?” he asked. “What are you doing at 555-3241?”

  I could have died! After that he tossed the old nickname he had for me, “Squeak,” and started calling me “Stalker.” Not exactly an improvement.

  Anyway, like I said, I like Sebastian. A lot. But I’ve chosen to move on. See, he was totally in love with this one girl, Amanda, but she moved away and now she’s tight with some hippie guy. She totally broke Sebastian’s heart. So I started hanging around him a lot, making him cookies and stuff, trying to help ease his pain. I thought maybe in the process he might open his eyes and see me, Sara, instead of you’re-like-a-kid-sister-to-me, Squeak. But as I said, things didn’t exactly work out that way. Now I’m Stalker.

  So, tonight I’m going to Mallory Stewart’s party with Jimmy North. It’s kind of a drastic measure, since I don’t really like Jimmy North, but it’s more of a statement. I want Sebastian to see I’m not sitting around knitting him handcuffs. I’m not a stalker.

  I tried to make my non-stalker statement last weekend by going with Jimmy to see The Web (they were playing live) but Sebastian didn’t even show. So that plan was a total waste, except The Web was awesome. I was glad I got to see them. But I know Sebastian will be at Mallory’s tonight. So, tonight he’ll see just how un-stalker-like I am.

  When we get to the party, the first person I see is Sebastian. He’s like a magnet to my eyes. They’re drawn to him. I force myself to not look at him, though. Instead I try to act interested in what Jimmy’s saying. He’s talking about computers or video games or something.

  Staring into Jimmy’s innocent blue eyes, I feel sort of bad. He’s a really nice guy. I wish I liked him. Unfortunately, I don’t. To me he’s kind of boring. On the other hand, he’s not as boring as I used to think. Maybe if I just hang around him long enough …

  “Hey, Squeak, where were you last night?”<
br />
  Surprised, I turn. And who do I see? Sebastian. He walked clear across the room to talk to me. And he lost the “Stalker.” What’s up?

  “We won the game last night,” he says. “But I didn’t get any cookies. Are you mad at me or something?”

  “No, I’m not mad,” I tell him, surprised he even noticed. “I just had a lot of stuff to do.”

  “Oh.”

  It’s hard for me not to smile. He seems kind of dejected, like he’s getting the hint. I’m not stalking him anymore. No more cookies. No more phone calls. No more I’m-at-your-beck-and-call. I’m Non-Stalker Sara.

  “You know Jimmy?” I ask, bringing Jimmy to Sebastian’s attention. I put my arm around him, making sure Sebastian understands we’re together.

  “Sure,” Sebastian says. He looks at me quizzically. “I heard you saw The Web last weekend.”

  “Yeah. They were really great,” I tell him. “Did you go?”

  He shakes his head. “I was sick.”

  The last time Sebastian was sick I made him chicken soup. Not the kind that comes in a can. I boiled a chicken and everything. And it’s not like I’m Miss Betty Crocker. I mean, messing with raw poultry—it’s not something I normally do. But he was sick and I wanted him to feel better. I wanted to show him I cared.

  Maybe I over did that—the showing him I cared thing. Still, all my cooking and phone calls—I was just trying to be nice. Okay, maybe I tried too hard, but for him to start teasing me about it—he’s a jerk.

  So, those are my thoughts as I stand staring into Sebastian’s gorgeous brown eyes. He’s been sick—good. I’m glad to hear it.

  “I missed your soup,” he tells me.

  Hearing him say this catches me off guard. “Well … I was with Jimmy.”

  “Yeah.” Sebastian digs his hands deep into his front pockets. “You seem to be with him a lot lately.”

 

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